Trust Me
by Novoux
Summary: Izaya is the predator Shizuo knows he can't outrun, if he wants to. For lemoninagin; Izuo & Shizaya


Izaya watches him like a big cat ready to hunt. Eyes widened, pupils swallowing up his irises and churning into molten heat meaning Shizuo _knows_ something only Izaya could be capable of is about to happen. Which means one of two things, either good or bad for both, really, and in the end, unavoidable at least.

Shizuo learns never to let himself make the same mistake twice. Eyes on him, he can _feel_ them from where Izaya steadily moves in slow movements from his desk and his long, slender fingers look like claws from where Shizuo can see. All signs of danger, tensing in his muscles when Izaya decides then and there that he doesn't feel like doing paperwork anymore.

About time, too, and Shizuo almost amuses himself with the predatory look in Izaya's eyes, shining bright and clear. The way he draws himself up in a sinuous movement as soon as he thinks Shizuo isn't looking gives a perfect example. Except this time is different; this time Shizuo knows Izaya's supposed to be busy for the next day and a half. Hence the whole point of Shizuo sitting on his couch, watching television in his work clothes, the bow tie loosened just a bit for breathing room and somehow being allowed into Izaya's bed for a night or two.

Nothing explains how Izaya moves. Fluid, quick and stealthy, clearly trying too hard to not be noticed and it _almost_ works. Almost.

Shizuo dares to hold his breath as soon as Izaya stretches to his full height, fingers clenching in the expensive material. Anticipation rises and swells within his chest, tightening on the pound of his heart starting to pick up on Izaya's calculated movements.

And then he's up from the couch, bolting toward the stairs in an unexpected twist of playing chase. There's no time to look behind himself—Izaya's already there, the desk chair flinging back with force as Izaya kicks it out from underneath himself, tailing Shizuo with surprising agility. Of course, since years of being chased have led up to one game in his apartment.

What's worse is that Izaya knows _exactly_ how to catch him—after all, it's _his_ apartment and therefore if Shizuo tries, (he bets Izaya could stop him in his, it's all too real to think about) Shizuo won't get anywhere further than where Izaya wants him.

That in itself is a terrifying thought. Not one to think about, per say, as Shizuo darts away from the stairs when Izaya cuts a corner, coming too close. His heart pounds in his ears, slamming against his chest as he slides into the bookcases, the quiet thump of Izaya behind him and if he doesn't realize _who's_ chasing him, then it becomes a threat.

Except Izaya already is a threat, and damn near impossible to outrun.

When he hits the end of the wall Shizuo has only less than a fraction of a second to glance to the staircase, deciding it to be the best option when Izaya's hands are snatching on empty air the moment he brings himself to a sprint. Izaya hisses behind him, angrily slamming his foot against the floor to pivot quickly and after Shizuo who's gone in a flurry of black and white up the wooden steps. If Shizuo can imagine it, Izaya would definitely be a cat, with the elongated fangs and the twitching ears, the black tail swishing angrily after losing Shizuo once, claws empty after a pounce.

It certainly doesn't stop him from moving faster, not hindered like Shizuo is on the steps. And god _damn_ it, Izaya is so fucking quick that he doesn't even feel the vibrations of Izaya climbing up the steps, two at a time until halfway up Shizuo thinks he's going to get somewhere and doesn't notice Izaya's too close for comfort.

A hand grabs his ankle, pulling _hard_ and Shizuo doesn't realize he's falling until it's too late, slamming into reality with the clack of his jaw hitting the step he misses. Head ringing, his heart pounds loudly in his chest and he can't catch a breath, feeling the bruising swell of his jaw while his ears ring like sirens. He should be running, maybe, and that's what his brain keeps trying to remind him of but he can't move, can't figure out where he is in the dazed moments of blurred vision and white hot pain.

And he never feels Izaya, the slimy little worm, crawl over him like a cat who's caught his prey—he already has him, right where he wants him. It's just moments of blinding white and pain and his brain scrambling inside his head from how rough the fall was. Nothing at all to keep a beast like him moving any longer, coming to a panting halt beneath his red-eyed fate.

The silence never lasts long.

"I win, _Shizu-chan._ " Lips ghost over his ear, the warning clarion calls ringing in his aching head with the too comforting feel of a murmur against his ear. If he tries to pay attention he can feel the slight feathery touches of fingers on his arms, pulling them from his sides and letting them dangle in the spaces in between the steps, leaving Shizuo open to any and all attacks.

But the lips on his ear don't leave, curving into a sinister smile of a cat who's caught the cream. Shizuo's breaths falter, the whisper over his jawline doesn't convince him to open his eyes and face what he already knows. Doesn't mean he'll accept it—he'll refuse, so long as he can pretend there isn't a big cat waiting to suck him of every last drop of blood and devour him whole.

Izaya's lips trace over the lobe of his ear, impossibly soft as they move and for the split second Shizuo sucks in a breath, he feels something warm and wet on him, tracing in lines of cartilage and skin. A shiver creeps into his breath, teeth chattering together before he can help himself. Izaya drinks it in, unusually silent as his tongue swipes wetly in dainty licks over Shizuo's ear, urging more tight shudders to tremble in between his bones.

Teeth close on the shell of Shizuo's ear, drawing a ragged hiss and a sudden exclamation— _fuck—_ before Izaya's lips close around the bite, soothing and sweeping over where he can feel blood rushing to the bite. In his head and behind his eyes he imagines the bastard's enjoying the reaction, playing it over and over in his own twisted little head because it's one of the few times Izaya has ever managed to catch him off guard.

For some reason, nothing is more interesting to the parasite than doing just that.

Shizuo likes to call it sick humor, since that's what the flea is made of—a warm and wet tongue licking his earlobe, teeth carefully scraping over the lobe, tugging and pinching. Whatever is in the flea's mind, he imagines that it must be something worthwhile enough to get the bastard to pay attention to his ears with the fine precision of _enjoying_ himself before a meal.

The blood rushing to his ear, however, only makes himself a target to the flea's observant gaze, lips parting in a dark smile when he draws back to notice how _red_ Shizuo is becoming in general. Not just his ear, but spreading down his throat and rising in a strange pattern from his throat, cheeks turning hot in a matter of seconds.

"Looks like Shizu-chan's enjoying himself..." Another nip at his ear has Shizuo groaning reflexively, stifling it in a sudden breath to keep himself from shivering. Just because he likes it doesn't mean the bastard has to exploit it.

Izaya's tongue is too articulate, too wet and _there_ because Shizuo's pants are growing slightly uncomfortable and his lungs can't seem to keep air in. Just long enough to shudder a sigh, pulling his arms up slightly as they begin to ache from the awkward angle they hang from. He knows Izaya's still watching him, mouth closing around his ear and licking like the sly bastard he is because he knows just where to press to get Shizuo to react.

"Tch…you wouldn't know enjoyment unless someone's jumping off a skyscraper." Shizuo bites back, swallowing hard when Izaya's fingers comb through his hair and his tongue finds a ticklish patch, gently pressing for a reaction.

"Ah, Shizu-chan doesn't know what he's talking about." Izaya _knows,_ tongue swiping over the same strip of skin and Shizuo shudders involuntarily, teeth clenching as the shooting pain in his ear rears up again. "I can think of many things I enjoy, and I know Shizu-chan..." he dips back down, nipping harder where there's no cartilage and Shizuo loses his breath, satisfying Izaya's need for proving himself right. "Enjoys what I give him, ne?"

"You're just...full of yourself," he's trying so _hard_ not to bend to Izaya's will, skin prickling with anticipation and knowing he'll never win. "Just a game, that's all it ever is to you."

Izaya pauses, lips moving away from Shizuo's ear but he knows the pest is still there by the warm puffs of air on his feverish skin. "But this isn't a game, Shizu-chan, and you know that."

So what if he does. It doesn't stop Izaya from curling his fingers in one of Shizuo's hands resting on a lower step. Nor does it stop Izaya from being the warmth on Shizuo's throat, bared for only him and the little bastard gets a kick out of licking from behind Shizuo's ear down to his collarbone just to see Shizuo shudder.

And he won't quit—he never does—when his thumb finds behind Shizuo's ear, rubbing and pressing and knowing exactly where feels the best while he occupies his mouth with the blond's bared throat. Like an open sampling, a feast of an appetizer for the cat too proud of himself to just _get on with it—_ oh no, Izaya likes to savor his winnings.

His teeth sink into Shizuo's throat, waiting for the tense of muscles that comes under his bite and the jerk of Shizuo fighting back. But this time Shizuo keeps himself breathing, busy focusing on the rise and fall of his lungs and the swelling in his brain where his jaw is, dangerously close to Izaya's sharp little canines. The thought raises a chill down his spine, prickling at the nape of his neck and where Izaya's fingers tighten in his. There's no stopping his coy mouth from making its slow and unnecessarily _long_ journey to Shizuo's Adam's apple where he knows it'll be the end of him. His ears still burning and sensitive—nothing helps when it comes to Izaya.

By now, it doesn't scare him much that he doesn't want help. Instead, the tortured slick of Izaya's tongue and teeth over his throat, grazing on him as if Izaya can't help but take his time. He plays like he tastes his ootoro, salty warm skin under the give of his teeth and the sudden nips take Shizuo's breath all the same, suspending it in the thick of his tongue where he doesn't trust himself to talk anymore.

"See…?" Izaya worries at a patch of skin with his teeth before pulling away, leaving the dull sting tingling underneath the skin. "Shizu-chan likes it." And he sounds so damn satisfied too, drinking in Shizuo's reactions like he's got a choice to watch a mouse squirm under the claws of a cat.

Except Shizuo doesn't like it. He can't _stand_ how good it feels and how easily Izaya can take him down to something beneath him, warm and shivering more than Izaya fidgets because he can't get _enough_ of how good everything is.

It's just not fair—it's heaven delivered by the devil incarnate.

A sudden blow of cold air over saliva-warmed skin startles him out of his head again, eyes refusing to open and Izaya breathes the slightest chuckle, something not quite amusement but not quite satisfaction. Just watching Shizuo squirm, knowing only he knows how and rewarding the sudden jolts that clench in Shizuo's jaw with a teasing rub of his index finger behind the blond's ear.

He swallows when Izaya's at his throat, the bob of it slipping under a pair of lips and choking on what doesn't quite go down. Izaya ghosts breaths over him, each eliciting a spine-crawling shiver that tightens in his hands, fingers kneading his fist apart with surprising ease. And there's no breath of air that will ever prepare him for when Izaya's teeth sink into his Adam's apple, biting _harder_ than any other bites that he's worried into a nice purplish red mix of teeth marks—the pain is intense, burning and bright and stinging sharp enough to puncture Shizuo's lungs and leave him to bleed out.

He doesn't mean to—he gasps anyway, loudly and embarrassingly loud at that—when Izaya's teeth burn holes into him with the venom of a snake, as sinister as he is and slithering into every last ounce of control Shizuo can reign in. It hurts more than it should, hot and white and enough to groan because it doesn't stop even after Izaya's teeth are gone. All it does is leave the shape of his bite in the blond's throat, reminding him he's been poisoned and far past the point of caring.

Then it shouldn't surprise him, his eyes cracking open to Izaya licking him clean, catching the rivulets of blood that pulse from where the skin breaks under delicate layers marked by wickedly sharp fangs. The scent of blood mixes in the air, wet saliva streaking over the bite and mixing with blood. Carefully Izaya licks and massages the tender spot, sparks of pain shooting underneath the skin and the soothing feel of his tongue brings focus back to his ringing ears long enough to hear himself gasping for air.

Izaya doesn't laugh now, lavishing generous attention to the neglected parts of Shizuo's throat, content with licking and biting random little patches, then hand in Shizuo's slowly creeping up his vest with each button that comes undone. Then when Izaya's teeth find his other ear, the bow tie comes fully undone, slipping through the parasite's fingers and Shizuo feels himself shudder hard when he sucks in another breath. It's not even considered, the tightness of his pants, over the first murmurs of Izaya moving over his ear, drinking in the sweltering heat from the flush that Shizuo can't even try denying any longer—it just doesn't matter anymore.

When he groans with a bite to his earlobe, some needy, pathetic noise escapes from him, causing Izaya's fingers to slip right back into his curled fist, easing it open to lock around his hand instead. His other hand presses over the bites that sting, finger dipping and pressing to elicit a hiss of breath from Shizuo. His body refuses to stay still, humming like a live wire with energy that continues to build, the more Izaya continues to take him with his mouth and that sinful tongue.

Though as Izaya's index finger circles around the bite on Shizuo's throat, the blond tenses like a tightly-coiled spring, muscles drawn in and teeth cutting into his cheek where he bites down enough to flood his tongue with a rush of burning copper. Izaya doesn't stop, taking interest and he brings his thumb to one of the deeper marks, suddenly pinching the skin tightly along with his index finger.

The amount of effort it takes to keep from killing the damn bastard—or at least crying out because _fuck_ it hurts—shouldn't be underestimated. Especially because it take far more strength to keep from using it than it does from using it on the asshole who smiles with the smirk of a devil.

Izaya really is the end of him, something he's long since been aware of the moment they started this game. Nothing should surprise him, not the slow slide of fingers digging into where Izaya's teeth have marked him and the shush of a murmur in his ear—"Stay _still,_ Shizu-chan, so it feels good." Despite the whispering move of Izaya's lips over his ear, lulling him into some false sense of feeling so good, he doesn't know exactly what he's gotten himself into.

Fingers slide over the bruising bites, digging in around where the redness starts and purple skin edges the inside, covering purple parts of his marks with the slightest of pressures. He focuses on massaging the skin, coaxing the pain to slip away like massaging venom straight to the heart—this way he can watch Shizuo breathe shallowly, groans resting at the back of his throat where his eyes slip shut again, hopeless to try and fight.

The flea takes his time with kneading Shizuo's throat, using his thumb where he can't reach and keeps licking and sucking down to Shizuo's jawline. Stopping where the ugly bruising mark of when jaw met stairs, Izaya makes a cautious decision to run his tongue along the edges, moving to the white, hot center where it pulses under his lips and Shizuo tenses again, ready to fight—only Izaya kisses it, as gentle as possible and barely felt save for the warmth that buzzes from the spot and spills liquid warmth into Shizuo's chest and between his ribs.

"See, ne?" Izaya moves to hover over Shizuo's lips, breaths even while the blond can't even choke down enough oxygen. "Feels good, just like I said it would."

Over the careful massage of the marks where the pain starts to fade and the careful, almost untouched treatment of the one on his Adam's apple, Shizuo could agree. Only his lips burn with the want of having the poison he's ingested already and it's so _close_ Izaya knows how he can tease with just those lips and curling his warmed fingers in Shizuo's.

When Izaya moves to climb over Shizuo's lap, the brush of an equally as hard erection against his doesn't faze Shizuo at all, sending a shock of burning sparks up his spine and lazy heat in his stomach. There's not much he can _do,_ not with Izaya having taken over him with the simplest of touches and the slow feeling of succumbing to his own fate—he'll never win.

He doesn't want to, hypnotized by the eyes that meet his when he blinks them open. Izaya's eyes train on him, meaning for him to watch as his hand moves to Izaya's lips with Izaya's fingers over his. In a simple slide of his wrist Shizuo's fingers open up from under his in an easy move, spreading apart as Izaya manipulates the muscle to his whims. Eyes flicker back to Shizuo's, a self-satisfied smirk pulling his lips as he takes a finger with the stretch of his tongue, curling around it and swallowing the sound of an unrestrained moan.

Izaya swallows his finger down, licking and sucking and tonguing before pulling back to lick in between the groove of his index and middle finger. His tongue traces over a knuckle, looping over to the other before he gives the same treatment to Shizuo's middle finger, taking it into his mouth with the first thoroughly wet one to swallow and suck on.

Shizuo moans under his breath, a curse not quite forming under clumsy lips and his mouth feels so dry, watching Izaya with burning curiosity like he hasn't been swallowing heavily for however long he's been trapped here. And he could keep watching Izaya suck on his fingers, pulling and teasing and lavishing with the rub of his tongue knowingly keeping him tensed and pulled loose all at once.

Confusing doesn't even begin to describe watching himself be devoured. Intimidating, infuriating, anticipating, nervous, sweat, heat, _hot,_ and _good_ come to mind in a matter of a gutted string of thought.

No hope for him, not that there's ever been need to have any.

Izaya's hips rub over where his pants pull tight, his shirt falling open with the slightest brush of Izaya's free hand, fingers lingering over his heaving chest. When he finishes with Shizuo's pinky, taking him out with a slow, wet slide of skin and teeth scraping over the knuckles, Shizuo watches as saliva glistens in the light above them. Hopelessly compliant, Shizuo watches as Izaya moves his hand to the unbuckled mess of his pants, sliding his hand over where his erection burns with the first touch of Shizuo's wet fingers and Izaya's tightened over him.

"Just _relax,_ " Izaya comes close, hovering above him until he's less than an inch away, dangling temptation a caught animal shouldn't be given. Poison in his veins, stinging in his throat and slowly creeping through his bones. The bite to come doesn't faze him, doesn't make anxiety sting when it should, staring into the haunting eyes of a predator that's caught him and poisons him with his own breath.

He succumbs with the breath stealing his, lips lowering for the final bite.

" _Shizuo."_

* * *

 _For lemoninagin, a good friend of mine. Enjoy, darling._

 _Thank you for reading._


End file.
